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In Good Hands
“Mandolin Hospital, how may I be of service?”
“Please connect me to Dr. Jack Ross. It’s Dr. Amber Smithson about a consult.” Then she rattled off his extension.
Across from her, Roger frowned and looked at his watch. Amber just laughed.
“We always stayed late on Friday nights. We shut our doors, pretended we’d gone home, then got a ton of work done. Plus, it covered for the fact that we had no social life except for our jobs.”
As expected, Jack answered on the second ring.
“Amber?” A low voice rumbled through the line. “Has a miracle happened? Have you finally decided to give up all your pie-eyed idealism? I’ve been working on the director since you left. He might be open to you coming back, but only if you schmooze him right.”
Amber barely held back her smile. This was exactly what she wanted to hear. But she couldn’t seem too eager, so she glanced at her elevator companion. “Hello, Jack. Look, I’ve got you on speaker with a Roger Martell of RFE. That stands for Robotics For Everyone.”
As she spoke, Roger pulled out his BlackBerry. A glance at his screen showed that he was looking up Jack’s pedigree. A second later his eyebrows rose. Yup, Jack was one impressive neurologist. But more important, his work with amputees made him an ideal consultant to a robotics company.
Jack was groaning into the phone. “Jeez, Amber, not another robotics firm. I’ve got them coming out of my ears.”
“Would I steer you wrong? Just give them an hour. Let them prove their worth.”
Jack took a long time to answer, but in the end, he groaned his agreement. “Fine. I have an hour first Tuesday next month. Bring him then.”
She grinned at Roger. “It’ll be two of them. Roger Martell and Sam Finn—”
“And you, Amber. You bring them in person or not at all.”
Perfect. Exactly what she’d wanted in the first place. “Fine,” she said with a pretend show of reluctance. “If that’s the only way.”
“Tuesday at three. With you or not at all.” With that, Jack cut the connection.
Amber exhaled and slowly clicked her phone shut. She didn’t know what to think about what she’d just done. It felt like the outfit, plus having her hair piled on top of her head again, had somehow put her back in time. She was Dr. Smithson again, thinking nothing of scheduling a meeting halfway across the country. It felt strange, but also good. She’d never felt more powerful than when she was in this mode. It was seductive, this feeling, and she worried that she was compromising too much. Then she remembered her bank account and knew that some compromises were necessary.
Meanwhile, Roger was looking at her as a man might take the measure of a cobra. “So you’re on the level,” he said, though it came out part question.
“That part was real, yes.”
“And the seduction part?” he prompted, his tone annoyingly neutral.
She shrugged, but she couldn’t resist putting a little attitude into the movement. She’d never had to beg for sex before, she sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “As I said, the universe works in mysterious ways.”
“That’s not an answer,” he said.
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
He paused, his eyes too dark, his expression very intense and completely unreadable. And then he took a slow step forward. “And you think I’m gay.”
“That was Claire. I’m betting a half-dozen vegan muffins on straight.” She arched a brow. Any man with his looks would have an ego to go with it. And, my, she loved teasing a man with an ego. “Straight, hard and so hot sometimes even you can’t stand it.”
His lips curved in a predatory smile. “Takes one to know one.”
She laughed, the sound coming out low and throaty without her consciously willing it. “Just because I recognize a fellow playmate doesn’t mean I’m going to dance in your sandbox.”
“And yet you made a bet with Claire, dressed up all pretty for me and strutted your way into my office.”
“I didn’t stop the elevator. Maybe you did.”
He shook his head, and she would swear his eyes glittered with sexual intent. “How does a single kiss prove that I’m straight?” He moved closer, his attitude part anger, part dominance and all male. It was only years of training that kept her standing still. Most women would be backing up as he tightened the distance between them. Within a moment she could feel the heat of his breath across her skin.
“That was the bet,” she said. “One kiss. If you want to fake it, that’s up to you.”
“I’m not going to fake anything,” he growled.
The air seemed to tingle as it entered her lungs, and her skin flushed with heat. Without even planning it, her chin shot up and she met him stare for stare. But she couldn’t speak as he came so close to her lips.
“One kiss?” he whispered. He brushed his mouth against her cheek in what was definitely a kiss. It made her whole body shiver. “Was that a kiss?” he asked. He shifted to nip the tip of her nose. “Or how about this?”
Finally, he made it to her mouth. While she held her breath in anticipation, he brushed a single, long, thorough kiss across her lips. No tongue, just his lips. And it was the hottest thing she’d experienced in nearly two years.
He was toying with her, getting her hot without fulfilling her bet or her personal hunger. This was what came of playing with an alpha dog. But she wasn’t without skills of her own.
“Yes,” she whispered, as she stretched up on her toes to let her breath warm his mouth. “That’ll count.” Then she forced herself to drop back on her heels and step away.
He arched his brow at her, a challenge in his eye. “Glad I could be of service. You let me know if you need some more proof.”
She grinned. “Is that an invitation to play?”
She watched him pause a moment, and then his expression slid to pure male. “Yeah, it is. Did you have something else in mind?”
And there was the gauntlet thrown down in challenge. Did she have the nerve to pick it up? It had been two years since she’d played any type of sex game with anyone. Two years since she’d put on stilettoes and done up her hair. Two years of burying her nose in every type of bizarre holistic treatment she could find. And none of it had been as fun as this moment right now. So did she go for it? All the way?
How could she not? After two years, she was beyond ready.
She stretched her hands up in the air and slowly pulled out the pins holding her hair in place. She knew he was watching her, so she worked as slowly and as seductively as possible. And then, when she was sure he was good and caught, she flashed him a wink. “There’s a Tantric game I’ve always wanted to play,” she said.
He swallowed, but that was the only indication she’d affected him. Well, that and the bulge down below. “A game?” he rasped.
She stepped right up to him, leaned in close and moved her lips to his left ear. She even pressed a hand to his chest so she could feel his heart beat under her palm.
“He who comes first, loses.”
He released a growl, low in his belly. Like a great beast coming awake after a long sleep, and at the sound, she knew she had him.
“Sounds like a good game,” he said as his hands slid around her waist. “You think I’m going to play with you? You think I’m going to risk a potential deal with Mandolin just to get you in bed?”
“I do.” She nipped at his earlobe with her teeth.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I got your attention,” she said as she thumbed open two buttons on his dress shirt and slipped a finger inside. There was a light dusting of hair there, just enough to be manly without detracting from the muscle she felt beneath his skin.
“Lots of women get my attention.”
His hands began creeping upward toward her breasts. Her nipples tightened and her breath caught and held. She’d forgotten how hot this was. How absolutely incredible it was to just let go.
“Yeah, but I’m the only one stuck in an elevator with you.”
He chuckled and the rumble of his body was like a low throb in her own. “True.”
And then there was a moment’s pause. His hands stilled, and so did her own. They both stopped teasing, stopped tempting, stopped everything as a single question filtered through the air: Were they really going to do this? His gaze caught hers and they communicated silently. Was this worth the risk?
“Do you have a condom?” he asked.
“In my purse.” Then she glanced around the freight elevator. “Any cameras?”
“Nope. And I’ve got a clean bill of health.”
“Me, too.”
His smile was slow in coming, but it was all the more devastating because of it. The man was potent. His nostrils had flared, his hands were strong and he was physically backing her up against the wall. And just when she thought he’d pounce, he held himself back and waited while her breath stuttered in and out of her chest.
“He who comes first loses?” he asked.
“That’s the game.”
“And what do I get if I win?”
She let her hands slide down until she was stroking the very long, large length of him. “You get invited to round two.”
“I like the sound of that.” He paused for effect, then moved an inch closer. “Game on.”
He wasn’t subtle in going for it, not that she expected him to be. His hands slid to the back of her skirt and, within a second, she felt the zipper slide down, then her skirt dropped to the floor. She was standing in her thong and thigh-highs. If she were going to back out, this was the one move guaranteed to make her run for the hills.
She didn’t. In fact, she kicked the fabric away while she undid the buttons on his shirt. She meant to act strong but her fingers were trembling and she fumbled with the last buttons. Or perhaps it had more to do with the way he was stroking her thighs, running his fingertips along the edge of her hose before cupping her backside.
God, he had good hands, firm and large enough to support her as she wrapped one leg around him to pull him tight. So they could press heat to heat despite the fabric between them. Lord, he felt so good that she thought about impaling herself right then and there. She wanted him deep inside her; she wanted to be stretched to the very limit.
With that thought in mind, she went to the button of his trousers, but her fingers were too clumsy and there wasn’t enough space as he pushed her firmly against the padded wall. A second later, he was pressing his full body against hers, trapping her fingers. Her hands were useless as he began to thrust, groin to groin, over and over in a steadily building rhythm.
Oh, unfair! she thought. Her hands were pinned but his were free to pop open the buttons of her blouse. The black lace bra beneath had a front clasp, and so it took no time at all for him to free her breasts. He filled his hands with her and began to squeeze in just the right ways. She let her head drop back as hunger shuddered through her body.
Her heart thrummed, her skin flushed hot and her breath came in tight gasps as he manipulated her nipples. She didn’t remember ever having the desire build so fast before. He couldn’t be able to make her come without even pulling down his pants!
He bent down to put his mouth on her breasts. She knew without a doubt that if he was as skilled there as he seemed to be everywhere else, then she’d lose their little game within seconds. He was that good—or it had been that long for her. Either way, she wasn’t going to give up that easily. With a sudden surge of strength, she freed her hands and shoved him away.
He stumbled backward. Not far, but enough that she could take some measure of control back. Dispensing with the niceties, she grabbed either side of his shirt and yanked. Buttons popped off and his shirt was halfway down his arms in a single motion.
His eyes widened as he looked down at first himself, then at her. “That is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.
She grinned. She’d guessed he liked women who could match him power for power. Clearly she was right. With another yank, she had the shirt all the way down to his wrists, but the cuffs caught and held.
“Take it off the rest of the way,” she ordered, “or I’ll just rip it.”
He shook his head, his white teeth flashing again. “You’re not that strong.”
She arched her brow. “It’ll hurt.”
His grin widened, so she took the challenge. She jerked as hard as she could, but the fabric was stronger than she expected. As she was busy hauling on his shirt, he used her movement to spin her around and trap her backward against his chest. And worse, his shirt now held her captive whereas he had an arm free to stroke her.
If it were only his free hand caressing her shoulder, her breasts, her belly, she would have had less trouble resisting him. But then he did something no man had ever done to her before. His lips found the back of her neck. Not just the base of her skull but lower along her spine, as his chin pushed her blouse aside.
She felt his breath across her skin, the stroke of his lips as he teased her flesh, and then the slight scrape of teeth before the soothing circle of his tongue. On her neck and all the way down to between her shoulder blades. Her entire nervous system went limp with delight. God, never before had a man found that zone and used it to his advantage like that.
The wave was upon her before she even knew it was coming. She cried out in shock as she lost control of her body. Waves of pleasure rolled through her. They were sudden and wild and the best orgasm she’d had in years.
Thank God, he held her through it all, his arms firm, his stance solid. She might have collapsed onto the floor in an undignified, boneless heap otherwise. But he was a gentleman, supporting her as she writhed in his arms. And when she finally recovered, when she at last found enough strength to settle her feet beneath her, only then did she look up to his face. He’d won their bet, and so she expected to see a very male smirk. She didn’t. His expression was open in surprise. She might even have said he looked dazed.
She twisted, her legs still wobbly. But before she could ask her question, he swooped down to kiss her. It was a deep kiss, but it was also gentle, almost reverent.
“You’re amazing,” he said. “That was…amazing. I’ve never seen a woman look so hot when she comes.”
She didn’t know how to answer. After all, she was the one who’d just come without even stepping out of her thong. He was the one with the incredible mouth. And now, when she was obviously speechless with shock, his smile did shift to a cat-ate-the-canary grin. And then he slowly unwound her from his shirt.
“Name it,” he said when she was standing directly before him.
She blinked. “Name what?”
“The time and place for round two.”
5
ROGER DIDN’T TRY to hide his grin as Amber struggled to find her dignity. She needn’t bother. He thought her the sexiest thing alive just as she was. She had that cool exterior, but she’d come apart in his arms. Just from what he’d done to her neck. And didn’t that just make him feel like a major stud?
It didn’t even bother him that he had a boner the size of the Sears Tower. He was beyond happy—and that was the most bizarre thing given that they were still trapped in this damn elevator.
Meanwhile, Amber blinked at him, her eyes wide with shock. “I never…” she began. “I mean, it’s been a while, but never before…” She shook her head, put her hands to her red cheeks and groaned. “I don’t know what to say.”
She looked so vulnerable that he reached out a finger and stroked just below her left ear. It was all he could touch behind her hands. “You don’t have to say anything. It was great. Seriously.”
Her hands fell away, and she frowned at him. “Okay, so you are gay.”
He blinked, his vision of himself as a male stud disappearing by the second. “What?”
“To put it in Claire’s words, no man is that virtuous unless he’s gay.”
He laughed. He hadn’t meant to, but just the idea that they had been taking bets on his sexuality seemed funny to him. He was so not gay. And to prove it, he grabbed hold of her hand and pressed it hard against his length.
God, that felt good. She knew how to hold a man, even through his trousers. Right pressure, right stroke. His breath shuddered through him and his eyes practically rolled back in his head.
“Not gay,” he said. “Want me to prove it?”
“Yes,” she breathed, and his eyes snapped open. Her skin was still flushed, but there was definite hunger in her eyes. “God, yes,” she repeated when he just stared at her.
He didn’t stop this time. He didn’t hold himself back, and he sure as hell didn’t go easy on her. He had her pressed up against the wall in a second. Her blouse was still open, her bra swinging free, so he could have filled his hands with her breasts. He wanted to fill his hands with her breasts because she had great ones. But his hands were too busy dropping his trousers.
Thankfully, she was helping him, her hands shaking as much as his. And when his pants and boxers finally dropped to his ankles, they both released a moan of pleasure.
Her thong was in the way, and he started to peel it down. But she grabbed him by the ears—ouch!—and pulled him eye to eye.
“I ripped yours,” she said.
He grinned. “As you wish.” Then he grabbed both edges of the lacy elastic and pulled. She watched him do it, her eyes lit with joy.
“That is so hot!” she breathed. Then when he was going to go right back to her, she pressed a hand to his chest. “Condom.”
He bent down to his pants and pulled his wallet out, flipping it open to the appropriate pouch. But again she stopped him with a touch, this time on his wrist.
“How long has that been in there?”
He frowned a moment, thinking back. Erg. Much too long. Sure, he had dates with hot women, but it’d been over a year since he’d brought one home with him. “Better go with yours.”
She leaned down to get her purse, and he almost came right there. Even though she’d bent her knees in a rather demure pose considering she was naked in all the important parts, he could see the pink rounded curves of her bottom, and knew just how fabulous it would feel to flip her around and drill her from behind.
He didn’t. That would be crass. And besides, he didn’t have the condom on yet. But he could imagine and stroke those luscious curves as she moved.
She was still bent down when she turned to pass him the foil packet, giving him a mischievous wink. “Like what you see?” she asked. And then, damn if she didn’t extend her legs slowly while keeping her head down. Good God, she was flexible!
His hands were shaking as he suited up in record time. To hell with crass. She was giving him the choice, and he took it. It was only a half step to position himself, and then—yes!—a single, deep thrust and he was embedded inside her.
She gasped, her back arching beautifully. But then she gripped him. A long, low squeeze that started at his base and rolled up to the tip. Tight and hard and where had she learned to do that? He made a sound that might have been a growl, and she chuckled right before she did it again.
That was it. His brain fuzzed completely out and there was no stopping him. He grabbed hold of her hips and began to pump. He meant to pay more attention to her pleasure—God knows, he meant a lot of things—but he had no control. Not when she kept squeezing him like that.
And then, sweet heaven, she tumbled over the edge. She arched and cried out. Her grip became impossibly tight before she began to milk him in a strong pull. He slammed into her one last time, then erupted like never before. Holy cow, he even blacked out for a moment. And the pleasure of that release was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Heaven. Pure heaven!
But it didn’t last. It never did. Joy, ecstasy, even that sweet moment of unconsciousness faded away almost instantly. His mind kicked in, his thought resurfaced, and suddenly he realized he was leaning against the wall of a freight elevator still embedded in a woman he’d just met a half hour ago.
God, what was he thinking?
He took a deep breath, trying to gain some control. But even though his brain had kicked back in, his body still needed time to recover. It took a few more breaths before he could lean forward and help Amber stand. She was rather boneless, even in this position, but she moved easily enough. And he, sadly, slipped out of her as they adjusted.
“Mmm,” she murmured as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I take it back. You’re not gay. And if you are, I don’t want to know about it.”
“I’m not gay,” he said with a chuckle. “And I gotta know—does that count as round two or do I get to see you again?” The words were out before his brain could stop him. Did he even want to see her again? Sure, the sex was great, explosive even. But no guy was this lucky. Fabulous, no-strings-attached sex with a woman who looked like her? A woman who could bend over and kiss her own ankles? This was a setup for sure. He just didn’t know for what.
She started chewing on her bottom lip. She was uncertain and feeling awkward. Somehow that reassured him. A setup wouldn’t look as sweetly embarrassed as she did.
“I—I, um,” she stammered. “I think that was round two. This, uh, this isn’t really who I am anymore,” she said, gesturing to her thigh-highs and stiletto heels.
He shrugged, his suspicions starting to ease. “It’s not who I am either, but damn…”
“It was good, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “Yeah.” With repartee like that, he was losing his Mr. Stud status fast. He scrambled to think of something to say that wasn’t lame. “Look, we don’t have to make it into something big. Just dinner. Very safe. Very casual.”
She didn’t answer. She began pulling on her skirt and he abruptly felt stupid standing there with his boxers at his ankles. So they both got busy readjusting themselves until they were facing each other fully dressed, and another awkward silence descended.
“So you’re a doctor, huh?” And again, he failed to find anything clever to say.
“Um, yeah. Well, no, not really. I mean, there’s an MD behind my name but…” She sighed and shrugged. “It’s kinda complicated.”
He gestured to where they were, stranded in a freight elevator. “I’ve got some time. How about you?”
“Uh, yeah.” She released a laugh. “Okay, personal history—the short version. I used to be this person. I used to be Mandolin Hospital, working toward management, fancy doctor with all the trimmings. Except I never made it. I had this desire to learn about stuff Western medicine didn’t encompass. In the end…” She shrugged. “I had to choose.”
“And you chose what exactly?”
“Research. The truth is that I have a fundamental need to explore, and the administration had a fundamental need to make me toe the line. I hit a moment when I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
He folded his arms across his chest and studied her face. He didn’t see any signs of outright deception, but she damn well wasn’t telling the whole story. No one upended their lives like that without something major happening.
“So you came to Chicago to do what? Let me guess, was there a guy involved?”
“Definitely no guy—I’d broken up with my last boyfriend at least a year earlier. And frankly, I’ve always been too focused on medicine for relationships. No, I came out here to visit Mary.”
When he frowned, not placing the name, she filled in the clues for him.
“She’s your plant lady. The one with rheumatoid arthritis. Those muffins are for her,” she said, pointing to the box on the floor.
“Ah. Right. Sorry.” He remembered, he just couldn’t put a face to the name.
“Anyway, she was one of my first patients a long time ago. So when I hopped into my car and started driving, I ended up on her doorstep. And then I stayed.”
“Doing what?”
“Besides filling in for her?”
She waited a moment, studying his face for something. In the end, he just raised his hands in surrender. “What am I missing?”